Part 2 The Faceless Man Chapter 16 The Lesser of Two Evils
Murso’s corpse lay there, his eyes rounded and seemingly with a lingering ferocious light.
The wound that severed half of his throat was originally only a thin one, but with the coalescence of the extraordinary properties just now, it was already holding up and blurring a lot.
At the same time, the incontinence from death had caused a foul odor to emanate from his lower body.
Klein held the crimson, jelly-like mass in his hands, full of difficult emotions about what to do next.
In the grand scheme of things, he had no more than three options; clean up the scene, treat the wounds, and take to the streets to call the police in the name of self-defense, wait until nightfall, dump the body in a sewer somewhere, and pretend that nothing had happened, or immediately give up his current identity, abscond to another borough, and change his name again.
The problem with the first option was that Klein was currently still a black man with unseen secrets, and calling the police could easily get him investigated himself, and the second option harbored another danger in addition to making him constantly worry about the body being found and the police coming to his door:
That ambassador behind Meursault, after confirming the disappearance or death of his men, would surely send someone to 15 Minsk Street again, and by that time, Klein would have encountered perhaps a Sequence 7, or even Sequence 6, enemy – and behind that power across from him stood possibly a nation, a powerful nation.
The third option seemed the wisest and safest, escaping all the risks, but there was a downside, which was that Klein’s likeness was likely to be on the wanted list, and it was still the same one that Mrs. Sommer next door, the neighboring attorney Jürgen, and others saw him as, un-disguised, and by the time the appropriate newspaper was issued, even if it was confined to the Greater Berkland area, Klein was likely to be recognized by Daley and other night watchmen, and the problem would then become bigger and more troublesome.
Since it involves Ince Zangwill and the seal “0-08”, it is very likely that he will be hunted down by strong people at the level of senior deacon.
Of course, there is another branch of the third option, that is, to hide the body, throw the evidence into the sewers, and then abscond, but this also has the danger of being wanted, because the opposite ambassador in the case of failure to find the person, it is not unlikely that he will instruct the members of the Zimanga party to call the police, using the official forces of the Bakeland to search for him – if he can pinpoint Klein’s whereabouts, things would be equivalent to the second option.
Thinking it over, Klein made a quick decision:
Divination ……
Of course, in his heart he actually already had a tendency to choose the lesser of two evils, the first choice was relatively less risky, he himself could grasp the initiative to a certain extent, and he could make that ambassador’s subsequent actions inhibited from being too crazy by exposing it and by drawing the attention of the official forces.
Flipping out the paper and writing the divination statement, Klein unclasped the spirit pendulum within the cuff of his left wrist, letting the citrine pendant dangle naturally, narrowly touching the surface.
”I should call the police.”
”I should call the police.”
……
After silently chanting, he saw the spirit pendulum turning clockwise, not too far, and at a faster rate.
This indicated a fair degree of certainty!
After divining the other two choices in turn, and receiving a negative answer for both, Klein no longer hesitated and began to process the scene.
Putting on his black gloves, he searched up Meursault’s body and found a sharp dagger, a modest wad of cash, a box of rolled cigarettes, and a lighter, some miscellaneous items.
Klein put the rest of the things back where they belonged, removed his gloves, and took a direct grip on the dagger, stabbing it into the wound in Meursault’s throat, destroying the original shape.
Then he put his gloves back on and let Meursault grab the dagger.
After all this, Kraven gathered the extraordinary properties of Meursault, homemade charms, tarot cards, blood-stained contracts, paper for writing divination statements and various materials from his home into one piece and put it into a paper bag.
Then he performed the ritual of “summoning” himself into a special spirit.
After carrying the Aztec Copper Whistle to make himself stronger and more powerful, Klein picked up the bag, ended the summoning, and returned to the gray mist.
He temporarily placed the real objects in the back of the “Fool” high-backed chair, left the Aztec Copper Whistle behind, and then reentered his own body with a relaxed simulation of falling downward.
The reason why Klein didn’t burn the blood-stained contract and the paper on which the divination statements were written was because he was afraid that if he called the police, the matter would be transferred to the special department, and a powerful extraordinary person would come to carry out a targeted divination.
And once there was the blockage of the gray mist, even if the Eternal Blazing Sun himself descended, he wouldn’t be able to get a valid answer.
This was also the reason why after being promoted to Sequence 8 and having his spirituality greatly improved, Klein placed his weekly combing and summarizing on top of the gray mist.
He couldn’t afford greater suspicion or in-depth investigation now!
Dismantling the wall of spirituality and allowing the sudden wind to dissipate the smell of the remnants of the ritual materials, the only item left on Klein’s person and throughout the room related to the Transcendent and Mystic realms was the candle burning quietly in front of him.
But this time, he chose to use an ordinary candle, there was no need to be so elaborate since he was praying to himself and summoning himself anyway.
And in a family, having candles is a very reasonable and normal and age-appropriate thing to do, even if there is only one single person in this family.
After extinguishing the candle and putting it back where it belonged, Klein pulled out his gold pocket watch and snapped it open to look at it, estimating how many minutes ago Meursault had died and adding the minimum amount of time it would take for the police department to send out someone to investigate and ask questions and cascade them up the chain.
He wanted to make sure that even if an extraordinary person followed up with an investigation, an hour had passed since Meursault’s death.
In the occult, in the field of psychic, this is an important point in time, beyond which the information can be quite limited and very vague, for example, can be psychic killed Meursault is “Sherlock Moriarty”, but can not get the specific details of the death.
As for the other side may divination whether involves the hidden danger of transcendental factors, Klein is not worried at all, because the main transcendental factors involved (blood-stained standard contract) in the gray fog above ……
And the effects of his own premonitions and fighting abilities would be confounded as a result – the other party’s divination would surely point to that mysterious space above the gray mist, and would surely be interfered with.
Fortunately, I am also a professional …… feel really become Moriarty …… Klein re-examined the scene to make sure that there is nothing wrong, and then began to stare at the pocket watch hands ticking away.
After exceeding the estimated threshold, he put on his gold-rimmed glasses and waited a few more minutes before pulling out the door.
By this time, the skies over Birkeland were dark, and the gas streetlamps on the street illuminated the rainy, overcast conditions.
Minsk Street, being a middle-class neighborhood, was patrolled by police officers from time to time, and Klein waited a while before spotting his target and meeting him instantly.
It was two low-level officers with a single V on their shoulder patch, sidearms, short sticks, and umbrellas, who were looking around.
”Officer! A mugger attacked me!” Klein shouted tactfully.
His wretched appearance deterred the two constables, each drawing a short stick and looking warily to the side.
”Where’s the thug?” The brown-eyed policeman with the round face asked in a deep voice.
Klein pointed to his house:
”He snuck into my house and tried to kill me!”
”In the struggle, I accidentally stabbed him to death!”
The two officers who stabbed …… him to death looked at each other censoriously and said to Klein:
”Take us there.”
”Okay!” Klein put on a hijacked look and led the two officers to 15 Minsk Street, pulled out the key, and opened the door.
The two officers first saw the messy scene, then they noticed the body lying on the ground, the hideous wound at the other’s throat, and a blood-stained dagger.
”You secure the scene, I’ll go back to the station and report to the officer.” The other officer said to his round-faced, brown-eyed companion.
”Okay.” The round-faced, brown-eyed constable turned his gaze to Klein, the expression on his face and his body language revealing his wariness and caution.
After a while, the sergeant in a black and white checkered uniform with three V’s on his shoulder patch arrived leading the previous constable and two other subordinates.
While the officers examined the scene and gathered clues, the sergeant with a short tan beard under his jaw took Klein aside for a preliminary questioning:
”Name.”
”Sherlock Moriarty, here’s my rent bill for six months.” Klein pulled out something he had prepared long ago.
The sheriff glanced at it casually and continued:
”What occupation?”
”Private detective.” Klein answered frankly.
The sheriff frowned and said, “Did you know the deceased? Any idea why he attacked you?”
”I knew him, his name was Meursault, the executioner of the Zimmerg party.” Klein didn’t wait for the other party to ask again, and said to himself, “I accepted a commission earlier, from Ian Wright, who asked me to investigate his previous employer, Detective Zerrell Victor Lee, and this matter happens to be related to the Zimangue Party, to Meursault.”
”I followed the other man, and found him meeting in secret with a very distinguished gentleman, whom he addressed as Mr. Ambassador.” Having said this, Klein was not surprised to see the sheriff’s face change color a few times.
”Does the Ambassador …… know his name?” The sheriff asked in a deep voice as he muttered to himself.
”Not sure, but I’m sure I’d recognize his picture if I saw it.” Klein spoke the big truth, “This morning, Meursault came to visit me and asked me to look for Ian Wright, based on the professional ethics of a private investigator, I refused him, as a result, in the evening, just after I returned to my home, I encountered an attack, and I was almost killed by him, fortunately, my fighting standard is quite good, and my reaction is also sharp enough.”
The sheriff pondered for a moment, and inquired again about the exact fight, which Klein described almost as is, at best changing the premonition to a reaction, and the last thrown formality contract to a dagger dropped by the other side.
”Well …… you’re coming back to the station with us first, pending the results of the autopsy, the conclusions of the scene investigation and the questioning of the people involved.” The sheriff’s mind no longer seemed to be on this matter, and seemed a bit perfunctory.
He had only one thought today:
This was an important case involving a foreign ambassador!
It must be reported at once!
In a trance, he suddenly remembered a question and hastened to add:
”What is your faith?”
”The God of Steam and Machinery.” Klein answered without hesitation.
The Storm Church’s Becklander headquarters, the Holy Wind Church, was located in the Chorwood District, so cases involving extraordinary people here were often handed over to them, however, there was one exception to this, and that was if the person involved had a unified faith and was not the Lord of Storms.
In order not to encounter the night watchman, Klein had to apologize to the goddess.